Time On My Hands 10
by Laura W
Summary: The night before Prixin, someone asks for a story. Post-Endgame. J/C.


**Note:** This is part 10 of a multi-part, post-Endgame, J/C story. All parts should be read in order, and all can be found on my main page. There will be one more after this one.

My apologies for taking so long. I was out of town for several days and had no wifi access!

**Time On My Hands 10**

"Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were, but without it we go nowhere."  
– Carl Sagan

_Someday when I tell the story, I will begin with these words: _I had never had so much time on my hands.

_I will speak of the day I left _Voyager_ with Seven, both of us knowing we were not meant to make a life together but afraid to leave alone._

_I will speak of my sister's generosity in taking me in as if I had never been away._

_I will speak of Paka's unconditional love, Calusa's uncomplicated affection, and Koham's quiet respect, and how they convinced me there was still a good man inside me._

_I will speak of the days Harry and I warily circled each other aboard the _Sagan_, until we found a way back to the camaraderie we had once enjoyed._

_I will speak of B'Elanna's uncompromising honesty and fierce friendship._

_I will speak of Tuvok's perceptiveness, relayed to me much later, and Naomi's innocent insight._

_I will speak of Tom's wise and unexpected advice._

_Someday when I tell the story, I will say that this was how I spent all the time on my hands. Resting and recovering. Reconnecting with my friends. Preparing._

_But when I come to this moment, I will pause. I will say that an infinity of resting and recovering, an eternity of time, would not have been enough to prepare me for this moment. Then I will shake my head and smile, and I will tell the rest of the story – my part of it._

=/\=

I thought I had readied myself for every possible scenario, from angry words to tears of joy.

I never imagined that we would silently stare at each other, separated by a few centimeters and a few thousand light-years.

She is beautiful. So beautiful.

At the sight of her I remember the first time I saw her on _Voyager's_ Bridge. I remember the way she raised her chin and I lowered mine. I realize that for all these years, every time we've found ourselves face to face like this, we have always been just a breath away from a kiss. I wonder if anyone else has ever noticed.

I feel again the same lightning bolt of want I felt the first time our eyes met. It seared through my anger, burning away my fight, leaving me bewildered and compliant. I didn't understand what was happening to me.

But I do now.

I love her. So completely, so powerfully, that it's almost overwhelming.

I want to tell her everything in my heart, but I can't find the words. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. I have spent weeks among people who value a few simple, well-chosen words over many long and empty ones. I'm out of practice.

I finally settle on the two words that I must say before Kathryn and I can go forward from this moment. Later I will think on the irony of taking advice from Tom Paris. But in this case, he was right.

"I'm sorry," I say.

She draws back in surprise. It's not the greeting she expected. Then her face shutters. "For what?" she asks. She's not asking out of curiosity. We both know I have a lot to apologize for. She's seeking clarification.

"For staying away," I answer. "For leaving. For Seven. All of it. I'm sorry, Kathryn."

She nods once in acceptance. "I'm sorry, too," she says.

This surprises me. "What for?"

She raises her chin. "For not contacting you and telling you we needed to talk, and I just wanted you to come home."

At her words, all the uncertainty of the last few months leaves me. My need to come back and make things right is the only thing that's held me together since I left. Letting go of all that anxiety is such a relief I could collapse. "Thank you," I say.

I must have started to move toward her, because she places her hand flat on my chest, right over my heart. The connection that binds us together, stretched almost to the breaking point because of me, snaps back into place. She holds me up.

"We have more to talk about," she says. "A lot more. But for now..." Her eyes flick to her hand on my chest, then back up to my face. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too."

She peeks into the room behind me, then up and down the hall. "Where is everyone? Where's your sister?"

"The kids were tired, so she and Koham put them to bed a while ago. I think everybody else is just resting for tomorrow."

Her face falls a little. "I should leave you to do the same."

"No!" I take a deep breath. "No, it's all right." I start to turn back into my room. "Do you want to come in?"

We both take a step into the room, simultaneously see the gigantic bed, and stop. "Or we could take a walk," she says, her voice amused. "You didn't get to see the campus earlier."

"Are you sure it's not too late? It's after ten o'clock."

She laughs. "It's a college campus on a Friday night," she says. "These kids are just getting started. Grab your coat and come with me. We'll go down to the Old Crescent and chase the undergrads out of the Well House."

I laugh, too. "Kathryn, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But if I lead, you'll follow?"

"Always," I answer automatically. Then I stop myself, put my hand on her shoulder and look into her eyes. "Always," I say again.

She raises her chin again, searching my face. I hold myself very still, hoping she finds what she's looking for. Finally she slips her hand into the crook of my elbow and we head out of the hotel and into the windy November night.

The campus is gorgeous, even in the shadowy moonlight. She walks me through green spaces and gardens and among old limestone buildings. She clearly knows this place well.

The Old Crescent is a cluster of ancient buildings at the edge of the campus, connected by cobblestone paths, bordered on one side by a wooded area. Kathryn stops in the middle of the quad and points out the features of all the different buildings – the bell tower, the carvings, the beautiful stone steps.

"You've spent a lot of time here," I say.

"Mom has taught here since I was a little girl. When I was old enough I used to come down here and visit her in her office." She gives me a coy smile. "And when Phoebe and I were teenagers, we'd hang around Woodlawn Field and watch the college boys play lacrosse."

I laugh out loud, imagining a young Kathryn ogling the athletes, and the athletes gaping back at the tiny redheaded girl with challenge shining from her blue eyes.

The Well House is little more than an open stone gazebo in the center of the quad. Sure enough, there's a group of students there laughing and talking. They take one look at us and scatter. I guess it's our age.

She leans against one of the walls and looks up at me very seriously. "It's good to see you," she says again, "but we do need to talk."

I sigh and lean against the wall opposite her. We need to clear the air before tomorrow, but she's not going to make this easy. I should have realized that. Once again, all the careful words I need to say leave me. "What do you want to know?" I ask.

She is quiet for a long moment. The wind blows through the open sides of the Well House. It's colder than I expected it to be here.

"Why?" she finally says. "Why did you stay away? Why did you leave?" She swallows hard. "Why _Seven_, Chakotay? Of all the women on that ship, why her?"

"I was jealous," I reply.

Her face hardens. "Jealous." Her voice drips with disbelief. "Jealous of whom, Chakotay?"

"Jaffen, for starters."

She starts to say something, then stops herself and starts over. "I suppose that makes some kind of sense, but I wasn't myself when I was with him and you know it."

I do know that. And just being with him when she was brainwashed wasn't what made me jealous. "You you were yourself when you asked him to stay."

She looks stricken, then sighs and turns away from me. "You're right. But I felt obligated to make the offer."

"How obligated did you feel, Kathryn? Just enough to offer him a job on the ship? Or enough to ask him to move into your quarters?" I hear the hurt in my voice. I wonder if she can.

She doesn't say anything. I'm not sure whether it's because she has no answer...or because she does and doesn't want to tell me.

"When you said you were going to ask him to stay I went through so many emotions," I continue. "Anger at you for offering him what you would never offer me, even though I knew why you couldn't. Anger at myself for feeling that way. Then anger at him for leaving, because if he had stayed, maybe you would have been happy. And I just wanted to see you happy, Kathryn. But..." I stop, unable to go on.

She looks up at me. "But what, Chakotay?"

I shake my head. "Then I realized that my willingness to see you with another man if it made you happy meant that I...that I still had feelings for you."

"After all that time."

I nod. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, Chakotay," she says. "I didn't think... I didn't realize..."

"I know. And it doesn't matter anyway. He didn't stay."

"But you still wonder...what might have happened if he had," she says.

I sigh. She knows me too well. "I don't have to wonder."

"What would you have done?" Her voice is very soft.

"I think you know, Kathryn."

She blinks once, then her face falls. "You would have left the ship."

"I would have tried."

I glance her way to find her standing very still, her eyes turned inward. I've seen her do this so many times I know exactly what's going on in her head. She's playing out the scenario, looking at it from all possible angles and coming to a conclusion about what would have happened. Then she nods once and looks up at me. I nod, too, because I've played out the same scenario in my own head. "I would have asked," I confirm. "But you wouldn't have allowed it."

"No," she says. "The ship needed you. I needed you."

I start to tell her that she had an odd way of showing it...but I leave it unsaid. She knows that, too.

She puts her hand on my arm. "I put you in a terrible position, Chakotay, and I'm sorry."

"It's all right," I say. But I shake her hand off nevertheless. I can forgive her for the hurt she caused me...but it's hard to forget.

The wind blows a small tornado of leaves into the structure. I snag one and rub it between my fingertips. "It wasn't just Jaffen I was jealous of," I continue.

Her head snaps up. "But there wasn't anyone else," she protests.

I chuckle. "No, not jealous like that. I was jealous of Tom and B'Elanna."

She stands very still. I can almost see the thoughts running through her head again. "Their marriage," she finally says, realization dawning on her face. "The baby. They had what you wanted."

I nod. "Exactly. And I wasn't getting any younger."

"I couldn't have a relationship with a subordinate, Chakotay, but you-"

"No, Kathryn. I couldn't. I made that decision early on when I broke it off with Seska. And even if I had wanted to revise that decision, there was literally no one, _no one _on that ship, who would have accepted an advance from me. The way I felt about you was too obvious after New Earth. No one wanted to compete with that."

Her eyes widen in horror. "Oh, hell," she says, and rubs her forehead. "I really _did_ put you in a terrible position, didn't I?"

I chuckle. The absurd impossibility of our situation in the Delta Quadrant is starting to come home to me. "I think I put myself there, actually. And it's all over anyway."

She nods. "So," she says. "Seven. I think I know why, now." She cocks her head to one side. "She wasn't technically part of the chain of command, and she didn't know about New Earth."

"Exactly."

"Hell of a basis for a relationship, Chakotay," she says, and even though the truth of the words stings, the lopsided smile on her face makes their landing a little softer.

I shrug. "When she asked, I was intrigued. I realized it might be my only chance to have what I wanted while we were still in the Delta Quadrant." I drop the leaf to the ground and sigh. "But trying to keep it a secret should have been a sign to myself that I knew it was wrong."

She takes a step away from me, her back turned. "I had to hear it from the Admiral." I can see the hurt in the curve of her shoulders, the angle of her neck.

"I know. Seven told me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself."

She turns to stare at me. "Did Seven tell you that you would marry, that she would die, and that you would live on but as a broken man?"

My head snaps up. "No. Is that what the Admiral told you?"

"In part."

I shake my head slowly. "Kathryn...did it ever occur to you that the Admiral might be lying to get you to do what she wanted?"

Her eyes widen. She suddenly covers her lips with her hand. "I...no," she says. "It didn't. But it should have."

I lean into her space. "Why, Kathryn? Why should that have occurred to you?"

"Because I've done it before, haven't I?" she whispers. "I've used people's emotions against them in order to get what I wanted."

I lean back against the wall. "Yes. You have."

"Damn." She turns away from me again. "I'm sorry, my friend."

"So am I."

She paces the length of the structure, six slow strides to the left, six slow strides to the right, then she stops in front of me. Even in the darkness, her eyes are piercing. "If we hadn't come back when we did, do you think you and Seven would have stayed together?"

I've asked myself the same question dozens of times over the last few months, and come up with dozens of conflicting answers. "I don't know," I say. "Seven is very intelligent and insightful. And she's learning to be more careful with people. But she's also judgmental and manipulative."

Kathryn's chin lifts in defiance. "A lot like me, you mean."

I nod, glad we're finally getting this out in the open. "Yes. But without the life experiences that make a person value compassion over judgment and wisdom over mere knowledge." I look away from her. "Really, she's just a child. A precocious child, and she learns fast. But a child. On _Voyager_, I might have been able to tolerate that, or at least wait until she grew out of it. But here..."

I turn and pace to the opposite side of the structure. "When I was able to step back and look at the situation clearly, I realized that Seven wasn't ready for me – not for an older man who was ready to settle down, not for someone whose beliefs differed so radically from her own, not for a lover. What she needed, and what she probably didn't realize when she came to me in the first place, was a father figure. But she conflated the two."

"Because she's naïve."

"Yes. Like a teenager with a crush on a teacher."

Her voice is as cold as ice. "You didn't realize that until we were home?"

"No. Maybe I didn't want to. I'd like to think I would have, had we not come back when we did. But I can't be sure. And even if I had realized it...I don't know that I would have done anything about it anyway." I finally turn to look at her. "I'm not proud of that."

"You were that lonely."

It's not a question, but I feel compelled to answer just the same. "Yes. I was also stupid and shortsighted and I'm sorry for it. For all of it."

Now she turns to look out at the buildings around us, faded and ethereal in the moonlight. "If you had told me, Chakotay, if you had just come to me and told me what she asked of you, I would have said everything you just did. I would have warned you that she's young and naïve. She'll respect you, but not your beliefs. She's looking for a father figure, not a lover."

Her breath catches in her throat, then, and my whole body goes numb. Her voice is barely above a whisper now. "But you know what else I would have said? The same thing you would have said to me about Jaffen: Go. Make a life. Try to find some happiness. I would never begrudge you something I knew you needed and wanted so badly. I would have been afraid you'd hurt each other. I would have been scared to death she'd wound your spirit. But if you had asked, I would have said 'yes.' Because I love you too much to say 'no.'"

"And I love you too much to ask."

In all the time I've had on my hands to ready myself and to think about it, in all the scenarios I've imagined, I never dreamed that when we finally spoke these words to each other they would have a dry, hollow sound, full of finality, like the closing of a book. We love each other. We love.

But it's not going to be enough. Not now. Not yet. The Delta Quadrant – the unidentifiable something that we left there – still hangs between us.

Around us the trees sway in the November wind, leaves whisper along the ground. Young people laugh in the distance. A wave of deep sadness washes over me.

She leans her forearms on the edge of the open window. "Have you ever wondered what it would've been like if we'd met under other circumstances?"

I rest my hands beside her. "Maybe we already have."

She looks up at me. "What do you mean?"

I shrug. "Basic cosmology. We know we live in a multiverse. There must be other versions of us out there, living other lives."

"And you think we crossed paths in some of them?"

"I'm sure of it."

She peers out into the night. "Tell me about them."

I smile in spite of my sadness. She suddenly sounds like a child asking for a bedtime story – one with a happy ending. "Somewhere, there's a version of us who met at the Academy. Two serious, straitlaced Cadets desperate to prove themselves."

"Did they fall in love?"

This is new territory for us. I vow to make the most of it. "Oh yes. She tutored him through Quantum Mechanics. By the final exam, they were engaged. And when she got her first command, she pushed to allow married Captains to bring their spouses on deep space missions – even if they served, too."

"He didn't join the Maquis?"

If I'm going to spin this fantasy, I may as well spin it all the way. "Starfleet didn't give up his homeworld. He didn't have to."

"And they serve together?"

I shake my head. "Not anymore. He's still on the ship, but he resigned his commission to take care of their six kids."

She gasps in horror. "Six!"

I laugh. "Four?"

"Pregnant four times wile Captaining a ship?" She elbows me in the side. "I don't think so, Mister."

"Two sets of twins. Two pregnancies."

"Hmmmm. Maybe." She sighs. "Are they happy?"

"Very. They know there's nowhere they'd rather be than with each other."

"I'm glad." She stands up straight and, to my astonishment, leans against me. "Are there more?"

"Let me see." I scratch my chin and pretend to think about it. "In some Universe there's a Professor of Archaeology who fell in love with a starship Captain. While she was on leave she came to IU to see her Mother at work, and saw a dashing man stroll down the steps of that building over there." I point across the space to a stately old limestone building. "He thought she was beautiful. It was love at first sight."

"'Dashing,'" she echoes. "I can see that." She pauses. "Or maybe they met when they were younger. He came here to study. She saw him playing lacrosse on Woodlawn Field and was instantly smitten with his athletic good looks."

I grin. Someday I'm going to tease her about that "athletic good looks" remark. "They've been together ever since."

"Did she go to space?"

"Yes. But she came back."

"I hope they're happy, too. With their six kids."

"They are."

She takes a slow step away from me. Her voice, when it comes, is almost lost on the wind. "Maybe we're still on New Earth. Growing old together."

"Alone, but not lonely." I whisper. I have imagined this particular scenario a thousand times since we left that place.

When she turns around to face me, her eyes are very bright. "Is every version of us happy together except this one?"

I want to tell her that yes, they are happy. All of them. And we will be too. But I can't. "No," I whisper. My chest tightens, thinking of it, and I blink back tears of my own. Somewhere there's a Chakotay rotting in prison, or worse, and a Janeway blithely Captaining _Voyager _after capturing his ship and delivering him and his crew to the Federation.

Somewhere there's a Janeway married to a philosopher named Mark Johnson.

Somewhere there's a Chakotay living alone on a distant planet, imagining his Kathryn on her way to the Alpha Quadrant with Jaffen by her side.

But I can't say any of that. It's far too difficult, and far too sad.

"Of course not," I murmur. "That would be unrealistic."

She sees my hurt and smiles for me, and I love her even more, and hurt even more. "And six kids at our age isn't unrealistic?"

I shake my head. "Three sets of -"

She waves her hand at me. "Of twins, right. I forgot."

I grin. "Or two sets of triplets. Or -"

"Stop right there," she warns, and pokes me in the chest again. "Before you find yourself in a deeper hole."

I take her hand in mine. "I've missed this," I say. "Missed us."

"So have I," she says. "For a long time."

I feel more connected to her than I have in years, but it's bittersweet. "What happened to us, Kathryn?"

She shrugs. "Stress. Struggle. Misunderstandings."

"Life."

She shakes her head. "'Life' we could have handled. Life in the Delta Quadrant may have been too much."

"Maybe. Maybe we just need more time to work things out." I hope I don't sound as despairing as I feel.

She is quiet for a moment. Then she sighs. "They're going to offer you _Voyager_."

"I don't want it."

She pulls back to look up at me. "It's the next logical career move, Chakotay."

I shrug. "That ship has one Captain, and it isn't me."

"So you'd never go back?"

"I'd go back if you were in the center seat."

"Back under my authority, as my subordinate." I hear a note of disappointment in her voice. I feel a tiny glimmer of hope.

"No," I say. "I could never go back to that. But beside you, in some civilian capacity? Maybe."

She pauses. "That's an interesting idea."

I shrug. "I do have a good one now and then."

"When I bother to listen."

My mouth falls open. This confounding, infuriating woman hasn't listened to me for years – and knows it, and is even making a joke about it. I have to laugh. "You said it, Kathryn, not me."

We smile at each other. This is a conversation we could never have had on _Voyager_. I think it's a strong step on our path back to each other, and ahead to whatever our relationship will eventually be.

"If you don't want the ship," she says carefully, "will you at least stay?"

"On Earth?" She nods. Her eyes are full of hope. In this moment she more vulnerable to me than she has ever been before and I make a sudden decision about my future, surprised at how easy it is. "Yes. Of course. I'll find something, whether it's with Starfleet or not." I look around at the beautiful old buildings surrounding us. "Actually, I like it a lot _here_. Is the IU Achaeology Department any good?"

She draws back, startled. "Are you serious?"

I laugh again in spite of myself. She is surprised at how willing I am to stay with her. I am...charmed by this. "Kathryn, I want to spend as much time as possible with you for a while. I've missed you so much it hurts, and just being with you tonight has eased my spirit. So whatever happens, however we wind up, you will not have to look far to find me."

She searches my face for a long time. "So we have our friendship back," she says.

I nod. "We'll always have that much, Kathryn. No matter what happens, we'll always be friends."

"And you won't leave again without saying good-bye?"

"No. Never."

She nods, then, and places her hand on my cheek. "You look exhausted."

We've done more talking than we have in years, and I am spent. "It's been a long day." A long day, a long passage to Earth, a long eight months.

She loops her arm through mine. "We should get back."

She leads me from the Well House, along the cobblestone paths and back toward the Union. "But we'll talk more tomorrow?" I ask.

"Yes. You've given me a lot to think about."

"So have you."

At the hotel entrance we turn and face each other and that jolt of desire burns through me again. She tilts her face up to mine as she has always done and here we are again, just a half-step away from an embrace. Someday I hope I will be able to fold her in my arms the way I've always wanted to. "Thank you for coming tonight, Kathryn," I say.

"I wanted to talk to you before the party. Before -"

"Before we had an audience."

She gives me a lopsided smile and nods. "See you in the morning?"

"Prixin brunch. I'll be right here."

She stares up at me as if trying to decide something. Then she gives a quick dip of her chin, the one that tells me she's made a choice. She curls her hand around my neck, pulls me down and herself up just far enough to place a tender kiss on my cheek. "Good-night, Chakotay," she whispers, and then draws away from me before I can return the gesture.

"Good-night."

I watch her walk away into the shadows.

I've been telling myself – and anyone else who cares to listen – that I only wanted her friendship back. I see now that I was trying to convince myself of that every time I said it. I'm sure now that my friends and family had to have seen right through me.

If I could figure out what Kathryn and I lost in the Delta Quadrant, I'd offer to back right now and get it, no matter how difficult.

I'm so tired.

I make my way up to my room and fall back on the bed without bothering to turn on the lights. After a while there's a light knock on my door. I call out for the visitor to enter and Sekaya slips in from the hallway.

She pauses, studying me, then sits down on the edge of my bed. She takes my hand in hers and sits with me in silence.

The chimes in the bell tower ring out midnight, and I close my eyes.

=/\=

_Someday when I tell the story, I will end with these words:_ I was afraid we had run out of time.

_You will be angry._

_You will pout. _

_You will raise your chin in defiance, just like so many others before you."You said this was a happy story, Shinli Chakotay," you will scold. "Bedtime stories must have happy endings." _

_I will laugh. "This is a love story. Love stories don't always have happy endings."_

_But then I will see the shimmer of tears in your eyes. I will brush your wavy hair away from your face and touch your soft cheek with my fingertips. "Don't cry, Katoha," I will say. _

_You will bury your face in my chest so that I cannot see you weep. "But it's so sad, Shinli," you will say. "They should be together. They loved each other so much."_

_I will hold you close. "Yes, they did," I will say. "And it _was_ sad."_

_Someday when I tell you the story, I will end with the words of a man who feared he had waited too long and lost the one person he loved most in all the Universe_.

_But you will clutch my shirt in despair, and I will know that I cannot tease you anymore._

_I will take your sweet face in my hands. "But it did not stay sad for long," I will say. "And you must trust me."_

_You will nod. "I trust you, Shinli Chakotay."_

"_This is not the end of their story," I will say. Then I will smile for you, and for the tiny woman with shining blue eyes watching us from the shadows. "But the rest of the story is not mine to tell."_

_Someday when we tell you the story of how you came to be, Katoha...Little Cat...youngest Granddaughter...we will begin with these words: _We had never had so much time on our hands.

-END-

**Note:** _...trust me..._


End file.
